


Some Assembly Required

by Cheloya



Series: Knife Party [5]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Mercy Street RP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 08:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10805589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheloya/pseuds/Cheloya
Summary: Imported, from 2007. Yamada has a place, and that place is dark rooms and abandoned corridors.





	Some Assembly Required

**1.**

Blood wells as the scalpel presses downward, and his aide siphons the blood swiftly away. Mayuri’s hands do not shake; they never shake. He has learned to mask the quickness of his breathing, but there is nothing to be done about the way his pupils flare. He is glad he needs so few staff for these operations, glad they all know their business and pay only brief professional attention to him. He is appreciative of the way Yamada’s movements anticipate his own, never in Mayuri’s line of vision, always drawing the blood away before it can impede Mayuri’s work. He wishes he had help as skilled as this in his _other_ job, and recognises the thought as uncharacteristically and hopelessly optimistic.  
  
Yamada’s body heat grows ever so slightly distracting as the operation goes on, but the boy never touches Mayuri in the theatre, not even so much as an accidental brush, and sometimes his hovering heat is worse. Mayuri has yet to determine if this is coincidence, skill, or if the boy simply knows – as he seems to know so many things without asking – what is coming; when it will come; how.

* * *

  
**2.**

Yamada writhes and gasps, but he does so soundlessly. Sometimes it takes both of Yamada’s own hands, both of Mayuri’s, to achieve this; sometimes suffocation-adrenaline tears glitter on Yamada’s face as they breathe together, recovering over sinks in darkened prep rooms, on gurneys still damp with _other_ fluids, but Yamada never makes a sound.  
  
Mayuri is certain that this very quality is what makes Yamada ideal. It occurs to him only rarely that generally appreciation is rendered vocally during such an act, and when it does, the thought is swiftly shut down by two facts: first, that Yamada had enjoyed himself well enough if the stain on his (now discarded) smock is any indication; second, that Mayuri doesn’t care.

* * *

  
**3.**

Yamada has a place, and that place is dark rooms and abandoned corridors in St Camillo’s. This trend breaks once, and as far as Mayuri is concerned it will never happen again.  
  
It is late. Technically they are on a twenty-four hour shift, but the power is out and no one seems to know how long it will be before it is restored. There is no point in Yamada commuting when it takes him an hour just to go one way, Mayuri grudgingly extends the use of his couch. There is no need for him to be without assistance for the time it took Yamada to get back into the city, after all.  
  
He does not forget that Nemu is awake so much as he is so accustomed to immediate compliance that he fails to take Yamada’s otherwise insipidly cheerful, polite personality into account.  
  
When Yamada introduces himself to a slightly startled silence and says, “You must be Nemu-san,” Mayuri is too irritated by the disruption to his schedule to do more than flap a hand at his daughter’s wide, cautious eyes. Yamada is no threat, he thinks, and remembers thinking, later. Yamada is never any trouble.  
  
He considers saying _learn_ , but decides that Yamada’s fluster and explaining his own thoughts is too much effort to waste on the pair of them. He leaves them alone, returns to his paperwork, and seventeen minutes later, to his scheduled nap.  
  
It is a few days later that Yamada mutters something that causes Mayuri first to gape and then to scowl. “What?”  
  
“She could be my sister,” Yamada repeats, blue eyes solemn. “Doesn’t that bother you at all?”  
  
“You’ve bothered me from the day we met,” Mayuri snaps. It is the truth.  
  
He does not expect Yamada to find it quite so pleasing.


End file.
